Masquerade
by Sita 900
Summary: No longer would she play pretend in this royal masquerade.  [exploration of the relationships between the characters, from past to present to future] [Please see inside for full list of pairings!] Chapter 8: VaanxAshe, LarsaxPenelo
1. The Puppet

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters from Final Fantasy XII. The only thing I own is the plot.

**Summary: **An exportation of the relationships between the characters, from past to present to future. Story will be rated Teen, but there WILL be individual chapters that are rated Mature (for sex and/or violence).

_I realize that there are quite a bit of couples listed, but that's the fun part, right? There is something for just about everyone in this story. **There may be chapters on end dedicated to certain couples, while others are only hinted at**. But all will be found in this story. Enjoy, and please review!!_

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**Relationships that will be Explored:**

**Romantic: **

Ashe x Balthier, Ashe x Basch, Balthier x Fran, Ashe x Vossler, Ashe x Rasler, Penelo x Vaan, Fran x Ashe, Vaan x Ashe, Larsa x Penelo, Vaan x Balthier

**Platonic: **

Larsa + Penelo, Basch + Fran, Basch + Vossler, Basch + Balthier

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**( M A S Q U E R A D E )**

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**Prologue**_: **The Puppet**_

_Two Years Before Vayne's Defeat_

She was young enough to be told what to do but old enough to be considered an adult. It was a hard age to be, and her life was quite similar to that of a boring play. She was expected to be a puppet in their show, and being a good actress is hard when you aren't allowed to forget a single line. She dutifully performed when she was told, afterall, it was all she knew. She danced when they said dance. She laughed when they said laugh. She spoke when they said speak. She blended in with the background- just another beautiful accessory of the King's fortune. To the people she was the perfect example of a sweet, virgin Princess. To those around her, she was nothing more than a bland convenience.

A convenience in that she could be wed off to a neighboring kingdom, thus ensuing peace and a good ally.

So she was married to the male mirror of her, and they "played their parts" perfectly. They smiled when told to smile. They slept when told to sleep. They were thought of as one person, and therefore forgotten by their fathers and brothers and countries.

But as the war began and then raged on, and she lost her beloved in the heat of battle, she was told once again to act. Should the Dalmascan people realize that their sweet, virgin Princess knew their country was lost, than they too would fall apart. But she had lost her partner- the only person who could realize that she was more than a obedient, smiling face. She was told to smile, but she frowned. She was told to laugh, but she cried. She was told to be silent, but she yelled. And they were all shocked that she did indeed have a personality; that she would no longer dance their dance. That she was more than a convenience with a plastered smile.

The intricate mask she wore came off. No longer would she play pretend in this royal masquerade.

She was puppet to her kingdom no longer.

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**Chapter One:** _**The Melancholia**_

_Two Years Before Vayne's Defeat_

He was the Captain of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca and was expected on the front lines of the war. But they had lost the last battle, and many of his men had died. Good men with wives and children, who were now grieving over the loss of their husbands and fathers. But now that battle was over, and Nalbina had fallen. Its Prince was wounded, causing all hope to be lost. The Captain fled back to Dalmasca, desperate to save the gravely injured Prince.

It was near three in the morning when he burst through the castle doors, cradling the unconscious Prince in his arms. The Healers came rushing forward, but they were old and weak and unable to carry his weight. So Basch hauled him to the sanctuary and laid him down on the white marble altar in the front of the grand room. As the Healers began to work, out came the priests, frantically trying to dress as they raced forward. They surrounded the Prince, joining hands in order to summon combined energy, and bowed their heads in union. As they offered chanted prayer, Basch too closed his eyes and prayed to the Gods. If only they would heed his call, then he would owe his life to them. He vowed that if Rasler was to live, then the Gods could take the Captain's life in the next battle.

Someone must have thought to wake her, for the doors to the temple bust open, colliding with the stone walls with a loud thud. Nobody in the room broke concentration except for the now startled Basch. He quickly turned, eyes wide, and saw the Lady Ashe take quick strides into the room. She paused momentarily, her eyes resting on her husband's chilled body thirty yards before her. She mumbled something inaudible, than raced past the wooden pews and down the large aisle towards her beloved. She was barely clad in her floor length, dark red nightgown. Her uncorseted breasts bounced freely underneath the sleeveless, thin, and tight fabric. The color of the silk made Basch feel near lightheaded- he had seen too much crimson during the last battle. As the concerned Princess attempted to race past the Captain and reach her husband, Basch stuck his arms out and jumped in her path. She instantly crashed into him, her thin body wrecking hard against his dirty steel armor. She stumbled backwards and he used his gloved hands to steady her on her bare feet. She looked up at him, a surprised look crossing her innocent face. His face was stern and hard, if not a little sad. She went to again move by him but he stepped in her path once more.

A look of pure frustration crossed her face- something Basch had never seen before. He was used to her always smiling and following her father's orders.

"Captain fon Rosenberg," she near snarled. "If you will please step aside, I _must_ see my husband."

"I cannot allow that, you Majesty," he explained calmly, gesturing behind him at the group circling the Prince. "If you break the power circle, their Healing energy will be lost."

She tried to look past his large stature, but he didn't even let her look at him. The wounds on Rasler would be enough to send Ashe into hysteria, and Basch felt it best that the delicate young woman not go through such tragedies. Had she seen him, she would try to get to him, therefore breaking the Healer's circle.

He stepped towards her, and she took a nervous step backwards. He continued to walk towards her until she understood his intentions. Turning on her heels, she solemnly dragged her feet behind her as she headed back out of the temple.

Once in the hallway which led back to the castle, Ashe stumbled forward and allowed herself to be caught by one of her two chambermaids that waited for her. The girl caught her, allowing the Princess to let out a terrified sob into her bosom. Basch watched on as the maid stroked Ashe's hair, trying to comfort her, as the other handmaiden quickly draped Ashe's thick black cloak over her slender shoulders.

Ashe straightened herself, resuming her emotionless posture and fished her arms through the long sleeves of the velvet cloak. Basch hesitated where to stood, wanting to reassure the Princess that her husband would be fine, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to the King's daughter. He could see her visibly trembling beneath the thick cape, and he frowned.

Without looking back, Ashe headed down the hallway, most likely back to her bedroom. Her handmaids followed closely behind her, leaving Basch alone in the dimly lit entranceway to the sanctuary.

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The Prince passed away less than two hours later. Basch took it upon himself to inform the King of Dalmasca of the loss. The elderly man didn't look surprised but gloomy. He didn't say much, but the look on his worn face told Basch enough: even the King believed that Dalmasca would soon fall. He retired slowly to his room, commanding Basch to deliver the somber news to his youngest child.

Basch found her sitting in a side room off of the Queen's parlor. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her head bowed in silent prayer. Her chambermaids allowed him to enter, and she slowly raised her head to look at him. As soon as she saw the downcast look on his blood speckled face, her own expression crumbled from worried to despair. She knew what he was going to say before he could say it. Her posture stiffened, and she choked back a sob.

Quickly did he approach her, kneeling before her throne-like chair and lowering his head in respect.

"I am truly sorry," was all he could offer her in her sadness.

She sniffled and looked down at him, then commanded that he raise his head and look at her. He did as she requested, and met her watery eyes. There was wisdom deep inside the azure depths; he saw, something he never knew existed. At that moment he realized that she was _completely_ different than she led people to believe. She was a magnificent actress, and even he had been fooled.

She leaned far forward, reaching out and clasping his hands tightly within hers. They felt soft and smooth, quivering against his rough skin. She sank away from her chair, and he allowed her to fall into his plated body as the tears began to flow silently from her eyes. Her blonde hair brushed against his cheeks, mouth, and nose, and he could smell the sweet floral essence of her that filled his nostrils. His heart ached for her. After all, she was just a little girl who was on the line of being a grown woman, and already she had lost so much.

"Basch," she sighed out his name. She tried to push herself further into him. "Please, listen to me. You are all I have left, do you understand me?"

_Your father,_ he thought gingerly. _Your throne. You have more than me._

It was as if she could hear his troubled thoughts. She twisted in his arms until she could freely look up upon his face. Her lips twitched as she struggled not to cry. "Nobody else, just _you_. Please, Basch, protect me. Keep me safe- now and always. _Please."_

He nodded, looking down at her pretty face. She sighed and completely relaxed in his stiff arms.

She breathed, "I trust you."

A week later, he murdered her father. Or so she thought.

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**Author's Note**: Please reviewwwww :) 


	2. The Scapegoat

**Author's Note: **Question… how do I only get three reviews but 10+ people who put this story on their alerts list? Please… review…. Even if it is something negative. I'm always looking to better my writing, you know. ALL feedback helps!

If you had to guess, how much time passed between the start to the end of the game? A week? A month? Nearly a year? It couldn't have been too short… after all, the characters all develop deep trust within each other- that doesn't happen in a day. For this stories purpose, I'm going to say it took six months. :)

P.S. This chapter is one of the few that could constitute as **Rated Mature**.

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**( M A S Q U E R A D E ) **

**Chapter Two:** _**The Scapegoat**_

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_One Year Six Months Before Vayne's Defeat_

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She sat dejectedly on the thin, wiry bed that screeched every time she moved. Her whole body ached from her intense rigidness, but she still kept perfect posture with her back straight and ankles crossed. Even now, as a forgotten Princess, she remembered all of her charm lessons. Her etiquette hadn't failed her, not even after over a year of hiding underground with her company, and she doubted it would ever fail her. Whatever happened to her, she would always have such useless skills.

Her room was one of the better ones, and it was no prize itself. It was the size that her closet had been in the castle: room enough for one tiny bed, a dresser, and a moldy wooden table. She stood from her bed and approached the table. Instantly did the smell of timber decay begin to crawl up her nostrils. She was used to it by now, and as she reached the table, she grabbed the pitcher filled with water that sat on the floor. She poured the water into the glass basin that rested on the center of the table, ignoring the rusty color of the liquid. Then, after setting the pitcher aside, she scooped some of the dirty water into her palms and splashed it across her weary face. The lukewarm water did little to revive her of her lost happiness, and she raised her head to stare at herself in the mirror on the wall.

The mirror was cracked in several places, and she was able to witness not one but several unhappy reflections of herself. She tried to smile, to at least appear joyful, but she had completely forgotten how to smile.

A knock sounded on the closed metal door. The noise echoed throughout her bedroom and rattled inside her head. Hastily, she wiped the filthy water from her face with the backs of her hands and strided over to the door. Opening it, she was greeted by the stern face of her personal and most trusted knight and friend: Vossler York Azelas.

She sighed, already feeling a sense of relief. She had been cooped up in her lonely little room for hours, with nothing to do or say to anyone. Vossler always came by around midnight, and she knew his intentions that night were the same as always:

"Amalia," he greeted her with a smirk and nod. He stepped forward with his right foot, reaching a hand out to her. "Shall we go?"

She didn't hesitate as she accepted his outstretched hand. "Indeed. And what shall we wager tonight?"

He led her from her room, dropping his hand from hers and allowing her to clasp onto the crook of his bent arm. "Gil, perhaps? Possibly a bar of soap?"

Without a smile or change of tone, she teased him: "Then I hope luck favors you this night, for you are in dire need of soap."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as they continued their way through the dimly lit sewers. He knew her well enough by now to know that even though she looked and sounded thoroughly serious, she was in fact joking. Yet he was not one for smiles either, and so he solemnly nodded his head. "That, I do."

They reached their destination- a large open corridor where the ceiling towered fifty feet above their heads. In the midst of the room lay several long bench tables, some still with old food scattered across them. Ashe and Vossler were in the mess hall that they had created for the underground Resistance. Here, the some few hundred members would gather for gruel in the morning, fish crackers in the afternoon, and soup with some form of meat in the evening. While they did have allies in the upper world, it was difficult for food to reach them. The Empire had eyes everywhere.

Ten gruff men were seated around one of the tables, their backs hunched as they counted out their gil and scanned over their cards. Ashe dropped Vossler's arm and moved to the right side of the table, and he the left. She sat down slowly next to Castor Domincat, a former Captain in Dalmasca's army. Castor was nearing forty years of age. His black hair was laced with streaks of silver and his tired face worn with lines from his long years in battle.

Castor, along with Vossler, were the only two people that knew she still lived. That "Amalia" was in reality Ashelia, the rightful heir to a lost kingdom.

He was one of the only people close to her that smiled and showed real emotion, and she adored that about him. He too had lost everything, but somehow found it in himself to be humorous. Even now, as she took her seat on the wobbly bench, he grinned wickedly at her.

"Gentlemen," he called out, causing all gruffing from the other men to cease. "We have a woman in our presence. Let's control ourselves tonight, understood?"

A low sound of grumbles floated up above the table, and Castor winked at his Princess. Vossler and Castor were thought to be in charge of the Resistance, and everyone followed their orders.

But Ashe had other plans. She reached into the pocket of her pink skirt and pulled out a handful of gil. She tossed it onto the table before her.

"No," she said fiercely. "Do not behave any differently."

They all knew Amalia. They knew she was one of the guys. Once said had approved of their slander, they continued up again, but this time Ashe along with them. She demanded one of them slide her down a cup of ale, and she heartily drank from it as she was dealt out some cards.

The group met once a week at midnight, where they played several rounds of cards before eventually passing out from their drink. Ashe, who had built up quite an alcoholic tolerance in the last year, would drink along side them. But instead of sleeping on the floor around the table, Vossler or Castor would escort her back to her room.

Truth be told, her meeting with these men was the one time during the week she felt the slightest tingle of pleasure. Usually, she kept to herself and reminisced of days long gone with her dear Rasler. She was mad at her deceased husband- mad that he had gone and died and abandoned her in such a cruel world, all alone with nobody to love her.

That was what she missed most; his love for her. _The only person who ever truly loved me is dead and gone_, she thought miserably. _And nobody will ever love me again._

She already knew that tonight would be a lonely night. She would not be having fun.

"Amalia," came Castor's voice, yanking her out of her self pity. All eyes were upon her. "It is your turn."

She shook herself, then picked and threw two cards down onto the table. The dealer slid two new cards over to her, and she quickly retrieved them. Luck appeared to favor her.

The game continued slowly and almost painfully for Ashe. Her mind and heart were elsewhere, and she had to fight to keep concentration. She won the first three hands but lost the next four. Still, she had made more money than anyone else in the group and took it all for herself. She was the poorest of any of them, having had to leave every gil behind when she had fled the castle a year ago.

One by one, like flies, the men were beginning to drop out of their seats and collapse to the stone floor. She asked one of her two knights to lead her back to her room. Castor had drank much and was having a hard time seeing straight, so Vossler agreed to take her.

Even Ashe- the Queen of Solitude- was quieter than normal on this night. By the time they reached her bedroom door, Vossler was eyeing her with hushed concern. She opened her door and stepped inside. As she mumbled out a goodnight and attempted to close him out, Vossler stuck his steel plated boot between the frame and the door, preventing her from shutting the door.

"Amalia," he said with a tilt of his head. "What is troubling you?"

_I am simply going through the motions without feeling like this fight- the Resistance- will succeed. _

Not once had she cried since Rasler's funeral. But now, standing in the doorway with Vossler's tender eyes probing at hers, she could feel her throat constricting and her eyes beginning to water. She screamed at herself inside, begging herself not to release such feelings. He noticed her anguish, and promptly pushed the door open with his arm and forced himself into her room. Shutting the door behind him, he reached out and grabbed onto her hands, pulling her into him. She rested her head onto his chest, her eyes half-closed as she willed herself not to weep.

Locking his arms around her lower back, Vossler rested his chin on the top of her head. "Majesty, do not fear. You are safe here, I promise you of this."

He was her personal knight and her most trusted friend. She knew that if she cried in front of anyone, it would be him.

"Oh, Vossler," she managed to sob. "I _cannot_ take this anymore. I have no feelings. I am _completely_ void of all emotions, good _and_ bad. How could this have happened? How could I have ended up in so poor of a state? Why can I not _feel_?"

He reached up with his right hand and stroked the back of her soft, blonde hair. "You are not free of all your character, my Lady. Look at you now-" he released her hair and used his hand to touch under her chin, drawing her face up so she could look at him, "-You are clearly _with_ emotion. You are strong, Lady Ashe, the most valiant and capable woman I have ever known. That is why you feel so emotionless; it is merely your strongest self coming through."

She sighed, meeting his dark eyes. She could hear the truth in his words, but found that she couldn't bring herself to believe them. After all, her personality had gone half circle during these last months. She had gone from smiling and pretending to feeling utterly numb.

She wanted to be loved again. She wanted to stop sleepwalking through her life.

She kept her eyes locked deeply onto his.

"I just want to _feel_ again, Vossler," she breathed out smoothly, her eyes dropping to his lips. She realized their faces were a mere three inches apart, and tilted her head slightly to the right. She begged him, "_Please_, Vossler, teach me how to _live_ again."

For a long moment he held her in his arms without responding, and she knew that he could feel her gaze hot on his lips. Quietly and slowly, he lowered his face towards hers and she allowed him to graze her mouth with his. He was hesitant at first, but when her eyes fluttered closed he took the signal to continue his explorations.

His lips were rough yet warm, and Ashe engaged herself in the kiss, moving her hands from his chest to his back, where she pulled him even closer into her. She knew she was completely lost in her grief and self pity and that Vossler was a scapegoat to these terrible feelings, but she didn't care. At the moment, he was her light in the dark and she would use his affections to feel again, even if just for a second.

His tongue invaded her mouth, probing around and pushing so far in that she nearly choked. He released her chin and slid his hands down the center of her spine, causing her to shiver from the chills the sensation created. Vossler felt her response and pushed her away from the closed door and towards her miserable little bed, all the while never breaking the deepening kiss.

_Make me feel._

His hands examined each curve and crevice of her body, touching and sliding over her exposed skin. She moaned deeply and sank her teeth gently into his lower lip, an action that seemed to drive him insane. All at once his intentions traveled from gentle and tender to aggressive and desperate. He grabbed at her skirt, fumbling with her belt as he pushed her onto her bed. She fell freely, enjoying the brief euphoria that was created when she bounced onto the mattress.

He sandwiched her between himself and the bed, grabbing roughly at her breasts and driving her head hard into the bed as he kissed her ferociously. Ashe felt blinded by the desire and speed in which things were moving.

She was almost nineteen years old and had been physical with Rasler only a handful of times. Vossler, she knew, had been with dozens of women, and so he was quick in stripping off her clothes and his own.

He pulled her legs up above his waist. Barely taking the time to look at her porcelain skin and admire her nude beauty, he slipped himself inside of her.

_Make me feel alive again._

There was a sigh of relief from both of them once he was fully within her. Feeling almost nervous, Ashe could barely move, and so Vossler took the lead. He kissed down her throat and breasts as he moved inside her. Breathing heavy, he nudged her legs and she moved them up higher, granting him greater and deeper access to her nether parts. He attempted to look her in the eyes, but the idea that this was more than just a physical connection frightened her.

She trusted Vossler entirely; she knew he would never do anything to hurt her or her chances of regaining the throne. However, she didn't want to realize that she was intimate with _him_. Looking into his eyes while he thrusted into her would only solidify the fact that she was weak enough to resort to having sex with a thirty-one year old man in order to feel some kind of emotion. She closed her eyes and squeezed them tight, focusing on the physical pleasure as well as the mental.

_Finally, I can feel._

It was over nearly as hurriedly as it began, and he was completely relaxed as he lay on top of her. His deadweight made her feel small and insignificant beneath him, and when she finally reopened her eyes she was once again back in her former dilemma- she was without emotion.

"Ashelia," he whispered out her name, placing his head on her chest. He used his right hand to caress the bare flesh on her side, and it comforted her slightly.

"Thank you," she replied, the words barely escaping her throat. "Vossler."

_Through his body I can truly experience some form of sensation._

Still, she vaguely understood that she had used him for her own pleasure. She needed his loyalty, and he thought she truly desired _him_. She felt as if she had taken a drug: she had felt pleasant for a time, but once the feeling was gone she felt far worse than if nothing had happened at all.

She bit her lip to prevent the tears that threatened to fall, and closed her eyes once again.

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	3. The Submission

**Author's Note**: My biggest Final Fantasy XII fear: BalthierxFran. I am not exactly a fan of the coupling, but I do admit that there was chemistry between them. If they had a romantic relationship in the game (which I believe is highly plausible), I'd imagine it would be something like this:

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**( M A S Q U E R A D E )**

**Chapter Three: **_The Submission_

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_The Day Before Vayne Presents Himself as Consul of Dalmasca_

_Six Months Before his Defeat _

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She grinned wickedly down at him. Her tangled mess of silver hair fell over her shoulder, dusting against his face. A low sigh escaped his parched lips, and he felt the gentle tingling sensation that covered every inch of his flesh begin to subside. He stared up at her, his eyes lazily half-closed, enjoying the sense of peace and relaxation that his orgasm had given him. His hands slipped from her hips and collapsed restfully at his sides, and he allowed his eyes to flutter completely shut. Suddenly, he felt exhausted and wanted nothing but to sleep.

His vixen poked him hard in the chest with one of her long fingers, forcing him to return to the world of the living. He opened his eyes slowly, peering up at her curiously. She had lost her grin and now peered at him expectantly. With a low chuckle, Balthier placed his hands underneath his head, ignoring his partner's sharp glance.

"What is wrong, dear Fran?" he questioned, raising a golden eyebrow. He couldn't help but smirk into her pretty face.

"Do not play cute," she scolded him, leaning forward slightly and pressing both of her palms against his bare chest. "You promised to say 'yes'."

He feigned innocence, wrinkling his brow as if deep in thought. "Why, I haven't the slightest clue to what you speak."

With a narrow of her deep crimson eyes, she dug her claw-like fingers into his chest. Balthier instinctively squirmed beneath her. He tried to gently bat her hands away, but that only made her latch on harder.

"Alright, alright!" he cried out, wincing as she withdrew her sharp nails. He sat up onto his elbows, his clever grin never ceasing. "We'll back to Rabanastre. Is that what you want?"

Fran nodded, appearing to relax. "The Consul will be announced. It will be the perfect time to steal into the treasure room inside the castle, for the Imperial guards will be surrounding the commotion of the citizens."

The idea of looting the richest castle around delighted Balthier, even more so that it had his partner that suggested it. Without warning, he snapped his arms up and slapped his right hand behind her neck. He pulled her down towards him, forcing her to create contact between her lips and his. She rewarded his obedience with only a quick kiss, then pushed him down and slid off of him. He released a quiet grunt of protest, already missing the intense sensation she created when she held him tightly between her thighs.

She didn't hesitate to begin to pull on her metal outfit. He watched her silently, admiring her exquisite Vieran beauty: her soft, brown skin, her tight muscles, her highly arched eyebrows. Balthier was fascinated with every inch of her, and his craving for her went beyond friendship and love. What he felt for her was indescribable.

But Fran, Balthier knew, understood just how astonishing she was. She was completely capable of taking care of herself, and informed Balthier of such when they had first met. She was no prissy damsel in distress and therefore never allowed herself to show any sign of weakness. She was emotionally as strong as steel and never let anything bother her.

Fran was stunning and she knew it, and often used it to her advantage. She was a believer of love but not romance. To her, there was no monogamy between two people; just simply lust and satisfaction and trust. When Balthier had first proclaimed his infatuation for her nearly four years ago, she smiled but made it clear that they could never have a true romantic relationship. She just wasn't that kind of woman.

And Balthier loved that about her. She didn't need love in order to be complete. She could have sex with him and have it mean everything but nothing at the same time, and this made Balthier yearn for her that much more.

Even now, as he watched his pristine warrior dress, he could feel himself get dizzy from desire once again. Yet Fran had accomplished her goal: satisfy her partner and get to travel to Rabanastre. She had done such things before, and would certainly do it again. She was not above using her body to get what she wanted, for she still respected herself and knew he respected her.

She watched him from the corner of her eyes as she wiggled into her leather thong. "You best hurry. We leave as soon as you dress."

He climbed lethargically to his feet and obeyed her wish, and found that his leather pants fit much more snuggly after an aggressive romp with his sky partner. He smiled at this, and went to make a witty, sarcastic remark to Fran but found that she had already headed to the cockpit of the Strahl. He knew what that meant; Fran was back to being all business. He was okay with that, though. He was okay with anything.

As Balthier piloted their ship towards the sky, Fran quickly went over the plan. They were to wait until the new Consul was lead to his banquet dinner. At this point, nearly every guard would be insuring his safety against the vile and angry citizens of Dalmasca. Security by the treasure room would be severally lax, and therefore they could slip in undetected fairly easily.

If they were spotted, well, that wouldn't be a problem. Fran was a master of weapons, after all.

"So," Balthier said as he leveled out the airship and flew them towards Dalmascan lands. "We are doing the whole get-in-get-out deal? Pillage what we will and sneak out unnoticed? Hmph, a tad bland, don't you agree?"

From her position in the co-pilot's seat, she glanced his way. "What, would you have us save Rabanastre from the Empire while we are at it?"

He shrugged, his lips curving upwards into yet another smirk. "Just a thought."

Before them lay Dalmasca. And with it, a whole slew of problems.

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**Author's Note: **Everyone thinks its Balthier with Fran as the sidekick, but I think it's the opposite. I think Fran lets Balthier pretend he's in charge, but we all know who wears the pants in the relationship. ;) I apologize if some of you dislike how I made Fran here. I just totally believe she is so strong and adapted to her mind, body, and soul that nothing bad fazes her. Besides, if she and Balthier WERE a romantic pairing, how would she put up with Balthier's CONSTANT flirting with say, Penelo and Ashe?

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	4. The Rescue

**Author's Note**: A lot of people dislike Vaan, which I don't understand. I think he was pretty useless to the story in the game, but he was still a nice guy (even tho some parts WERE annoying, such as "My brother was no liar!!!!") :)

For **Vaan x Ashe **fans. There will be more chapters (and more romance!) on them later.

**P.S. **This will be one of the few chapters that contains a game scene. 90 percent of the chapters will be completely new scenes.

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( **M A S Q U E R A D E** )

**Chapter Four: **_The Rescue_

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_The Garamsythe Waterway_

_Six Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

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He knew she was going to be furious with him. She had asked him to stay out of trouble, and he had purposely found himself danger. He wondered what she would say when she found out that he was fleeing from Imperial soldiers in the sewers. That is, _if _she found out. Vaan was beginning to seriously doubt that he would find his way out alive. He could envision the scene flawlessly: Penelo, wrought with dread and desperately searching all of Rabanastre for him, unaware that he was rotting in the bellies of all the dire rats that had devoured his corpse. He grimaced at the thought, but even more so at the fact that should he live, she would surely give him a rigid ass kicking. 

Sighing, he cut his sword through another rat, satisfied in knowing that this was one beast who couldn't enjoy his flesh. The creature took one last chimp at him before it died, and Vaan barely escaped its fangs. With severe annoyance he spun around, eyeing his new allies with skeptism. They stood ten yards behind him, side by side with haughty looks on their otherwise unreadable faces.

"It would be nice to have at least _one _of you taking blows as well," he rightly complained as he slid his sword into its protective sheath. "It's a little annoying to be taking hits while you two stand back unharmed."

As the Viera silently ignored him and fastened her bow to her back, her male counterpart walked by Vaan and pointed smugly at his sword.

"Don't blame us for the weapon you chose to wield," he retorted callously. "Play your role in the battle party and _please _refrain from complaining."

He felt his heart pound with anger and he clenched his fists tightly. He didn't do well with being scolded, especially by someone not much older than himself. Yet he knew that arguing wouldn't solve anything, and that if they had to travel together, it would be better to remain at peace.

A low, enraged cry sounded from their left. The three turned when they heard the sound, only to see a young woman fighting ferociously on a sewer line above their heads. The girl stabbed at an Imperial, blocking his blade with her shield as she pierced his flimsy armor. As the man collapsed unnoticed to the ground, she faced her enemies and shouted out at them. The woman was brave, but Vaan knew her fight was hopeless; she was cornered, outnumbered, and obviously weakened from battle. He stole a glance towards Balthier and Fran and was shocked to see that they watched the scene before them with such boredom that Vaan questioned their ability to feel compassion towards others at all. But someone had to help the mystery girl, and he figured that the expression was true: An enemy of his enemy was his friend.

He dashed over as hurried as he could, staring up above him at the now frightened girl.

"Jump down," he shouted up at her, watching as she gasped and turned her head to look down to see who had called her. "Hurry!"

The woman's decision was quick; she leapt far from the dead-end and down towards Vaan. He speedily placed his body underneath hers, and she landed hard into his arms. Bracing her left arm against his shoulder, she lifted her head to look at her rescuer. He met her eyes and the two sets of azure pools reflected each other. In the brief second that they stared into each other's eyes, he could clearly see that her desire for revenge matched his own. Already sensing the commonality between them, he had a feeling that this girl would be a friend for life.

The guards were yelling at them, and so she pushed herself from his arms and stood proudly on her pink and gold-booted feet. She pulled down on the bottom of her short pink skirt, for it had hiked itself up a bit when she had jumped.

The guards made their way down to their level, and both him and the woman raised their blades high in unison. The girl headed the attack with Vaan right behind her. Fran began to fire her bow and Balthier his gun. Vaan found himself quite impressed by the girl's speed and ability to use the sword. The Imperials soon fell against the four of them, and once the battle was done the girl asked for a moment's breather. Vaan was all too happy to oblige, excited to ask the strong-willed girl some questions. She was obviously an activist against the Empire, but who was she and why had he never seen her before?

He turned to look at her as she cleaned blood off of her blade and already could feel an extreme attraction towards her. She was breathtakingly beautiful with blonde hair that danced just above her shoulders and had a thin yet voluptuous body. As he visually scanned his eyes over her, he found that his gaze lingered on her lower half. The slits on the sides of her skirt begged him to touch the soft skin that lay beneath. Her bare thighs were on the larger side, but were toned and obviously solid muscle. He shook himself mentally, raising his eyes to her face and calling out to her. She lifted her head up to look at him.

She gave him a nearly missable smile when he approached her. "You all right?"

She tilted her said slightly to the right, keeping her intensely vibrant eyes locked on his. "Thank you."

"I'm Vaan," he introduced himself, taking a small step towards her. "And this is Balthier and-- _Hey!_"

As he introduced Balthier, he noticed that the rather rude sky pirate had already tried to walk away, with his partner close behind. Vaan scoffed, finding that the original fascination he had felt towards Balthier was beginning to die off. _Why would he just try and walk away like that,_ Vaan wondered, _and just leave the girl in distress behind? She obviously needs us. _

He turned his attention back to her. "What's your name?"

She thought for a moment, which confused him. Her voice came out soft and timid. "...Amalia."

_Why did she have to think about that? _"Amalia, huh? Nice to meet you."

She turned away from him, and he felt hurt by her blatant avoidance to return his greeting. "There were other's with me..."

Fran folded her long arms over her chest. "I'm sorry."

Amalia understood the tone in Fran's voice, and her shoulder's slumped forward. The word came out as a gloomy sigh: "No..."

His new friend looked lost and alone, and Vaan decided to take her with them no matter what Balthier said. As he watched Amalia take a moment to grieve for her lost companions, he briefly wondered how old she was. She looked to be a little older than him; perhaps she was Balthier's age.

At that moment, Penelo being worried about him- and for that matter, Penelo herself- was the furthest thing from his mind. He was already completely fascinated with Amalia.

Without warning, Vaan suddenly felt the pocket on his pants begin to feel warm. Confused by the sensation, he fished his hand into his pocket and fumbled around until he found the heat's culprit: the stone he had stolen from the royal palace. He lugged it out, holding it tightly in his hands as he raised it to his face in order to inspect it. It pulsed and shimmered a golden red hue, and Amalia released a sharp gasp when she saw the stone.

"Oh, now isn't that impressive," came Balthier's cocky but awed voice. The older man took a few strides towards him, causing Vaan to clutch his stolen treasure close to his heart.

"Don't get any ideas. I said it's mine," Vaan snapped, eyeing the sky pirates carefully as they hungrily watched the stone quiver and throb in his palm.

He could feel Amalia's gaze upon him, and he snapped his head in her direction. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth hung agape.

"You stole that," she questioned, the astonishment strong in her tone.

He felt his heart swell with pride because she seemed quite impressed. Seeing the awed look on her pretty face made him realize that he was indeed one step closer to achieving his dream of becoming a true sky pirate.

"Yeah," he chirped boastfully, the grin on his face widening.

Amalia released an irritated sigh, turning her head away from him and choosing to stare disdainfully at the sewer floor. Vaan instantly lost his smile. _Did I say something wrong?_

Fran politely asked if they could continue on with their journey and Balthier nodded in agreement. The Viera headed off down the sewer channel, but Vaan kept his eyes on their new ally.

"You should come with us. Better than being by yourself."

She looked back over at him, blinding hard, as if she was surprised and appalled by his offer. She lowered her slender arms to her side, pursing her lips together in a tight line.

She sounded put off and reluctant. "Very well."

With a small roll of her eyes, she pushed past him and followed Fran down the tunnel. Their was an arrogance about her walk, like she thought of herself as 'too good' to be walking through sewers. Vaan couldn't help but frown as he slowly began to follow her. _I guess she wasn't that impressed by my pirating after all. _

He paused when he reached Balthier. He looked up at him expectantly, assuming that the sky pirate would make a smart ass remark about him inviting the girl. But Balthier kept his mouth shut, and it annoyed Vaan.

"What's wrong with her," he inquired, referring to Amalia's sudden negative attitude adjustment.

Balthier groaned, tossing his arms out to his sides. He, too, rolled his eyes at Vaan. "You have a lot to learn- before we even get started on your thievery."

"What's that mean?"

Balthier didn't bother to answer, and the two set off in following the women. Fran was nowhere to be seen, and Amalia was far enough ahead of them to be removed from the male's conversation, and so Vaan wondered if it was a good time to make good on Balthier's terms. He glanced up towards the scrawny blonde man, and was surprised to see that Balthier's eyes were fixated heavily on Amalia's behind. A smirk was played out on Balthier's lips, and Vaan could plainly see the lust in his eyes.

"The way you're looking at Amalia," Vaan stated quietly, almost nervous to ask his question. He glanced around the sewers, still not seeing Fran. To Balthier he pried, "What about Fran? Aren't you and her--"

He was interrupted by Balthier dodging in front of his path, causing Vaan to make a sudden stop. He looked up at Balthier curiously, only to be greeted with a cold, ill-tempered expression. With a raise of his right hand, Balthier leaned out and poked Vaan hard in the chest.

"Ow, hey! What's the big idea?"

"Listen, _thief_," Balthier spoke with malevolent hostility. The words tumbled out from his throat quickly: "There are two things you may never ask me about, so listen to them now and listen well. One, you may _never _inquire as to what my relationship with Fran is. Two, you may _never _interrogate me on my personal history. If you _dare _speak of either of these two things again, I _will _be _forced _to harm you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear," Vaan mumbled, eyes wide with disbelief on Balthier's sudden anger. _Gods, this sucks, _he thought. _I seem to be pissing everyone off today: Penelo, Balthier, Amalia..._

"Then it's settled," Balthier nodded, removing his finger from Vaan's now bruised chest.

The sky pirate appeared to lose his rigid posture and relax. He folded his arms across his chest and turned to watch Amalia further the distance between them. He cocked his head to the side, raising a golden eyebrow.

"You're interested, aren't you," Balthier said, more as a statement than a question.

_Looks like he's back to normal._

Vaan knew he was referring to Amalia. He shrugged gently. "I don't know. Yeah, maybe. She seems a little odd, like it'll take a while to figure her out."

A wide grin erupted onto Balthier's handsome face. He began to walk again, motioning for Vaan to follow. "A challenge, eh? I like that in a woman."

Once more, Vaan frowned.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Yes, I realize Balthier seemed mean at the end. But hey, he was kinda mean during the first part of the game, and you know it! 

The part where Vaan and Ashe met was very striking to me. At first, Vaan seems very excited towards her- like he is attracted. Of course, she realizes they are thieves and becomes very cold, and his giddiness towards her turns to dislike. Fascinating. :)


	5. The Hierarchy

**Author's Note**: The platonic relationship between Vossler/Basch. Also includes VosslerxAshe and slight BaschxAshe (my current fav).

For this chapter, please recall the first chapter, where I described pre-FFXII Ashe as being the perfect picture of an obedient, virgin princess.

P.S. I officially changed the rating of this story to Mature. I figure there will be more sex scenes, so, yay!

* * *

**M A S Q U E R A D E**

**Chapter Five: **_The Hierarchy_

* * *

_The Ogir-Yensa Sandsea_

_Vossler Rejoins the Party_

_Five Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

The shame he felt when he looked at Ashe was like nothing he had ever felt. His whole scalp felt like it was on fire, and he prayed not a single one of his companions could see the scarlet that traveled the length of his face. He kept his expression hard, however; his eyes remained narrowed, his lips pressed together tightly, to help disguise his inner turmoil. Yet his gaze never left her or her dark haired protector. He couldn't quite place it, but there was _something _amiss about them. Then again, he wasn't sure if he was trying to simply find a scapegoat for his ill feelings toward himself. The sand that whipped about in the air from the Ogir-Yensa Sandsea did little to comfort the angst he was experiencing. 

He had taken up Vossler's stead by once again becoming her protector and helping her travel to the Tomb of Raithwall. Ashe barely looked in his direction, but when she did he could clearly see the venom in her glare. Her sharp words to him earlier, "_you're supposed to be dead_", continued to haunt him, and he sincerely doubted they would ever leave his memory. The words had pained him more than anyone could have guessed, and he found himself surprised by her strong show of emotions. After all, her whole life she had been obedient, quiet, and innocent. Now, she reminded him of a war-bent valkyrie, ready to slay those who stood between her and her quest for vengeance. He would be lying if he said that her new attitude didn't fascinate him.

Basch glanced to the other people that he traveled with. None of them knew Ashe before she experienced great loss. Basch could see what they thought of her in the way they looked at her. Vaan saw her as an edgy bitch, Penelo was indifferent, and Balthier and Fran saw her as a way to make more _money_. But Vossler was someone he couldn't quite place in his feelings toward the Princess. As was mentioned before, Basch felt something greatly amiss about him and Ashe.

When the group opted for a short break in order to rest from the blistering sun and stinging sands, Basch took the opportunity to confront his old war comrade about his intentions towards Ashe and Dalmasca. Vossler and Ashe sat together against one of the towering rusting silos, hunched down in hushed conversation. Basch had to pull up every ounce of courage he had inside him in order to brave another one of Ashe's hostile glares. He approached slowly, keeping his distance but making sure his presence was known. And there it was, just as he expected:

Her cold eyes were like knives into his heart. Once again he felt intense shame for having failed everything he held dear.

"Majesty," he explained with a clearing of his throat. "If I may speak to Vossler alone for a moment, I would be greatly appreciative."

He knew that she wanted to curse him in that moment, but she held her ground. Instead, she accepted his plea, and he was briefly reminded of the younger, obedient Ashe who seemed long dead. "Of course."

Vossler stood and left his Princess' side, following Basch to the next silo over. There they leaned against the metal railing, both staring out in front of them at the seemingly endless amounts of gold sand.

"Forgive my inquisitiveness," Basch began, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "But I must ask of any progress you have made in securing Dalmasca's freedom."

Vossler raised a gloved hand to his chin, stroking at the dark hair that protruded from his flesh. The action was slight but Basch noticed the significance in Vossler's gesture. As former captains of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca, they were trained to never show any sign of weakness or contemplation. Even a gesture such as the one Vossler made would give valuable information to an enemy. Placing a hand to the chin was said to mean that the person was hiding something.

"Little progress," Vossler spoke as he continued to stroke his beard. "I will continue my efforts."

_Lies, _Basch knew, based solely yet correctly on the gesture Vossler had made. _He is hiding something. _

"You have made no progress at all over two years," inquired Basch, allowing his suspicion to fully enter his heavy voice. "It seems difficult to imagine that barely anything has happened in our favor."

Vossler was smart and quickly understood that he had faulted in his movements. He placed his hands on the rail, narrowing his eyes in a fever to get the attention off of the topic. "You must understand, I worked hard to keep her Majesty hidden; that alone was my primary goal: the safety of her Majesty."

Basch allowed Vossler to change the subject. He figured that should Vossler indeed be hiding something, he would allow him to reveal his plot in good time. Scaring him into confession now could only cause harm- perhaps to Ashe herself. "I do hope you did not allow any vagrants to approach her whilst in hiding," Basch muttered, tilting his head slightly to the side. It was difficult for him to imagine the chaste, innocent princess wondering around in the company of lowlifes for a near two years.

Despite his overly stern face, Basch could tell that Vossler was still nervous of Basch's suspicion. "No reason to worry, I was with her Highness _constantly_."

"Constantly?" Basch quipped, feeling surprised. He thought, _No Knight of Dalmasca should ever be by her side constantly. _

Suddenly, Vossler seemed to become very calm; proud, even. From the corner of his eye, Basch saw the satisfaction on his face. "You still doubt my loyalties toward her Majesty? Fine, Basch, I will admit something that will convince you of my allegiance: Lady Ashe and I hold a bond much deeper than a knight to his Princess."

"Deeper, how?" Basch questioned, still looking towards the horizon.

"Trust me on this, old friend. Let us leave it at that."

"If you expect my trust, then you had better explain your actions," Basch spoke, his eyes narrowing.

"She came to me one night, wrought with hopelessness and sorrow," Vossler explained, the pride in his voice nearly causing Basch to wince. "She wanted to bed me, and I obliged."

As soon as Basch heard these words, he snapped his head to the right. His eyes widened as he comprehended what Vossler had just informed him, and Basch stared at him as if he was seeing him in a whole new light.

_Bedded? Vossler bedded Ashe?_

Vossler turned his head as well, meeting Basch's eyes. The look on Vossler's face was that of emotionless, as any trained knight's face appeared. To the outside eye, Vossler was just stating a fact. But to Basch, Vossler was once again enforcing the age-old pissing contest between them. They had always tried to best each other, and now Vossler thought he had finally won. Basch could see Vossler's thoughts and arrogance as he stared him square in the eye, and it was as if Vossler was saying, _'You thought you were the better man, but I got to fuck royalty. Now who is the better man?'_

"We have been laying together- near _nightly_- for over a year," Vossler concluded, keeping his dark eyes locked on Basch's.

_Having Ashe does not make you better than me, _Basch thought, feeling his blood boil at the idea. _It only makes you weak, Vossler, to take advantage of a woman in her darkest hour. Especially since you try to exploit it now._

Basch inhaled sharply, feeling almost sick as a mental image of Vossler having sex Ashe filled his mind. "Vossler, do you not understand the importance of the structure of hierarchy?"

Vossler, his face still expressionless, turned to face the horizon once again. "Make no mistake, Basch. I did _not _go to her; she came to me. Would you have done any differently, had you been in my stead? Had she offered herself to you, had she _ordered _you to take her, would you have left her alone instead?"

Basch contemplated this thought for a long time. He turned his body to look across the mountains of metal towards Ashe. She had moved from where she and Vossler had sat, and was now making small talk with Vaan and Penelo. Vaan laughed at something Ashe said, and a confused look crossed over Ashe's beautiful face. She looked as she had always looked her entire life: dazed and naive. But Basch now knew that the personality she had always shown him and countless others had been false; a fictitious but nonetheless cunning ploy. Basch wondered why she had worn a mask her entire life, and why she had decided to remove it now.

He had not forgotten Vossler's question. He turned back to his old ally, shaking his head slightly. "I would respect the hierarchy."

"Then _you are _a fool," Vossler told him sternly. "I performed my necessary duties for her Majesty; anything else would be treason."

Basch winced at Vossler's choice of words, suddenly wondering once again what Vossler was hiding. One thing was for sure: Basch did not trust Vossler's intentions towards Ashe, whether the somewhat younger man was her lover or not.

* * *

**Author's Note: **On the next episode of _Masquerade_: Vaan x Penelo, Ashe x Vossler and slight Ashe x Basch. Yaaay for Vaanelo!! 


	6. The Betrayal

**Author's Note**: Three parts to this chapter: VosslerxAshe, then slight BaschxAshe, then PeneloxVaan. Strange combination of pairings, yes, but they all focus around the same topic in this chapter: _**Trust**_.

* * *

**M A S Q U E R A D E**

**Chapter Six: **_The Betrayal_

* * *

**Part I**

_The Shiva_

_Immediately Following Vossler's Betrayal_

_Five Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

Vossler had betrayed her.

His actions had left her feeling more hollow than ever before. She knew that the lack of feeling should frighten her, but fear was not something that she felt anymore. Vossler, after all, had been her last hope- her knight in shining armor- but he had gone and ruined that image. She wanted to cry and wall up in her self-pity, but her eyes remained dry and her face made of cold stone. But more than wanting to break down and sob, she wanted to kick Vossler as hard as she could in the balls. She wanted to drive his own sword deep into his chest and twist the blade. She wanted to make him admit his treason and beg for the forgiveness that she would never grant him. But instead of getting to deliver pain, she found her hands bound in shackles as her lover escorted her and her new friends to the end of the Shiva. Keeping her head low, she knew how expressionless her face appeared, and planned to use this to her advantage.

In a foolish attempt to comfort her, Vossler placed his gloved hand on the crevice of her lower back, just above her butt. She winced loudly; his physical touch felt like needles under her skin. He glanced her way when he heard her displeasure, but she kept her eyes forward. For over a year his touch had brought her relief and gratification, but now she wanted to take back all that she had ever given him.

"If you wish to shame me," she bluntly stated to him, her voice filled with disgust. "Then by all means continue to touch me."

"I meant not to dishonor you," he replied, his face as stern as it had always been. While he did sound a little guilty, his hand remained on her back, which only promoted more anger from Ashe. "My only wish was to alleviate your fear."

_Fear_, Ashe's thoughts rang darkly in her skull. _I do not know fear, but he will know it far too well once I have finished with him._

She paused momentarily, raising her eyes from the floor in order to cast him the coldest glare she could. He stopped with her and tried to meet her eyes, and she granted him this favor. His eyes were filled with regret, as if he knew how badly he had failed her. Still, Ashe refused to give him her sympathy. She was a full believer of loyalty, especially when it came to sworn knights to their lieges. She sucked in a deep breath of air as she glared at him. _A betrayal to the future Queen is treason towards all of Dalmasca. _

"Do not touch me again," she snapped, the tension of hate building itself inside her. Ashe could be many wonderful things- but crossing her meant certain death. She knew her anger would release itself shortly, and soon the most terrible of demons would wreck havoc on him.

"Your Majesty, 'tis for the good of all Dalmasca, I am honor bound to--"

"Speak not of my kingdom," she spoke crossly, cutting him off mid sentence. "And certainly not of honor. You have _no _honor, Vossler."

Her words appeared to have stuck him to the bone. She witnessed something that few were able to behold: a look of pure anguish swept over Vossler's chiseled features, and he inhaled his breath sharply as if he had been dealt a blow to his stomach. Ashe watched his change of expression with a mixture of both glee and despair; her most trust friend and longtime lover was finally opening up and showing her emotion, but the intimate gesture had come far too late. They knew that things would never again be the same between them, and the realization left them both with heavy hearts.

Nothing else could be said between them; there was nothing left at all.

Ashe released a long sigh then turned her gaze back before her, where she spotted her friends being pushed along by several Imperial soldiers. Basch, who was the last in line, cast a quick glance over his shoulder back at Ashe and Vossler. She managed to meet his gaze, and the dispirited depths of his eyes astounded her.

Basch, she knew, had no part in this absurd plan that Vossler had created. He was just as innocent as her.

It was then that she fully believed he had done everything in his power to protect her father, her kingdom, and herself.

_It seems as though there is a chance for my survival after all, _she thought almost peacefully. _The Gods have sent me hope; and hope wears a scar across its face._

* * *

**Part II**

_Aboard an Escape AirCraft after the Imperial Fleet is Destroyed_

_Five Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

They were all watching her expectantly, Basch included. What they were watching her for, he didn't know. Tears, perhaps; maybe a command or an order. Or maybe they were just curious as to why someone who had just lost a best friend could be so calm and act so normal. Whatever her reason was for acting so ordinary, she didn't seem put off by the fact that she was being so intensely studied. Instead, she casually inquired as to how long it would take to return to Rabanastre_. An hour- possibly two, _Balthier had replied as he piloted them away from the wreckage that used to be the Imperial Fleet. The sky pirate had decided that they had best fly around major pockets of Imperial areas in order to avoid attention.

And so Ashe was studied by her comrades for the first hour of travel, and Basch found himself bewildered by her levelheaded attitude. Every moment of being with her was like a new discovery for him, and he now fully realized that the dull girl he had once known had been a complete fraud. _This _was the _real _Princess of Dalmasca- armed with brilliance, sass, and capability. It would take him quite a while to get used to her.

His perplexed thoughts were shattered when she suddenly climbed to her feet and gently touched the shoulder of Balthier. He glanced up at her, obviously surprised to feel her fingers on him.

"I need to clear my thoughts for a bit," she explained, removing her hand from him and turning to exit the cockpit. "I will be out on the deck if anyone needs me."

She left the cockpit, and Basch allowed himself to relax into his seat. He noticed that the intensity in the room had faded in the seconds after she left, and he wondered how Ashe could effect them all so much. It was almost a relief to be away from her.

Yet the youngest and newest member of the group- the cute blonde girl whose name occasionally escaped Basch's mind- had other speculations about Ashe leaving. She didn't see it as an opportunity to unwind.

"Do you think someone should go talk to her?" she asked, her face etched with gentle concern. When nobody answered her question, she continued: "She seemed so displaced. I think she's really upset about Captain Azelas and just doesn't want to show it. Someone should go talk to her."

"If you're so concerned," Balthier chimed in, witty and cocky as he usually was. "Why don't you take it upon yourself to follow her?"

A small frown formed across the girl's innocent face. Her head drooped with embarrassment. "I don't know her well enough."

"None of us do," Vaan agreed, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.

_No one, except for me. _"I do," Basch spoke up, sitting forward in his uncomfortable seat. "I have known her for her entire life, and so I will go to her side and see if I can help."

A look of relief washed over the face of- at last, Basch could remember her name!- Penelo, and she gave him an encouraging smile. "Thanks. I'm worried about her."

_I have a feeling she is more capable than any of us realize, _Basch knew, yet he granted Penelo's wishes, stood, and followed the already departed Ashe out of the cockpit and up onto the deck.

The air outside was soft and warm compared to the inner frigid depths, and instantly Basch felt a shiver run down his spine from the intense change of temperature. He raised a hand to his face, shielding his eyes from the sun and allowing him to see her. She stood with her back to him, leaning against one of the guard rails, her blonde hair nearly appearing white from the harsh light of the sun. He approached her, trying to be loud as to not startle her, but the sound of his clunky footsteps were lost to the roar of the airship's engines. He stood by her side, leaning down onto his arms against the railing, and joined her stare out into the clouds. Surprised that she didn't immediately turn to give him a hate filled glare, he decided that he wanted her to be the first to speak, for he didn't want to interrupt any important thoughts she could be potentially having.

She sighed after a few minutes of silence, narrowing her eyes from either the bright sun or the realization that he was beside her. "Did you need something?"

Turning to look at her, he left his face unemotional. "They are concerned for your mental well-being, your Majesty."

A look of pure amusement passed over her features as she cocked her head in his direction. "They are, are they? And what of you, do you fear for my mental health as well? Is that why you're here?"

The question was laced full of traps. Basch thought for a long moment about the answer, then decided that whatever response he gave her, she would not be happy. She was the kind of person who could turn anything positive into something negative, and he hoped that the opposite was also true.

"I am your sworn knight, am I not?"

The corners of her mouth dipped downward as he knew they would. There was no pleasing her, lest of all from him. Yet Basch was surprised when the words that came out of her mouth sounded delighted. "So you would take up your oath once more and protect me?"

"Once more, nay," he explained with a shake of his head. "I never broke my oath, only had it delayed for a time. Lady Ashe, I will follow in whatever coarse you decide to take, even if it leads us both to death."

She hesitated, looking pleased by his words but trying not to show her feelings. She turned back to face the clouds again. "...Thank you... I will put my trust in you once more. Do not make me regret my decision."

Nodding, Basch leaned forward onto the railing again. Vossler's face formed in his mind, and he remembered how his old friend had told him of his passions with Ashe. He sighed, wondering if it had all been false, in an attempt to throw Basch off his scent. If it was false, he wanted Ashe to confirm it so he could realize that Ashe was still pure. Purity and the Lady Ashe went hand-in-hand, and if her purity had died, then the Ashe he once knew was truly gone.

"Before he died, Vossler told me about you and him." He didn't know how else to put it.

Ashe gasped sharply, her eyes widening, and she spun her entire body in his direction. He glanced at her- met her eyes- and then realized that Vossler had been speaking the truth all along. And he felt _terrible _for bringing up such a personal past.

"He told you that?" She sounded almost heartbroken, but then her face turned to bitterness and her voice was filled with disgust. She averted her eyes. "He manages to shame me and commit treason even from beyond the grave."

"Forgive me," Basch uttered, feeling his cheeks flush from the pain he knew he had caused her. "I spoke too soon, I--"

She quickly interrupted him. "You thought he was lying. No, it's true. But I do not need to explain my actions or feelings to _you_."

She had put him in his place and made sure he realized his position in the hierarchy. He took a small step backwards and away from her. "Of course not."

Another sigh escaped her throat and she waved him aside with her left hand. "I need to do some thinking. Leave me."

He did as she commanded, heading back into the depths of the airship, his thoughts contaminated with images of Vossler and her.

* * *

**Part III**

_Aboard an Escape AirCraft after the Imperial Fleet is Destroyed_

_Five Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

As relieved as she was that Basch had gone to check on Ashe, she was ecstatic that Vaan hadn't volunteered himself to be the one to check on the Princess. It wasn't that she was worried _for _Vaan but more that she was worried _about _Vaan. Penelo knew all too well how beautiful the Dalmascan heiress was, and she also knew how fascinating she seemed. On several occasions she had caught Balthier, Vaan, and even Basch ogling at the mature nineteen-year-old woman. Ashe was as alluring and intriguing as they came, and Penelo wasn't surprised to see desire floating in the eyes of any of the three men. However, that didn't mean that Penelo enjoyed seeing it- especially from Vaan.

Penelo was not one to be jealous, but when Ashe was in the same room as Vaan, Penelo became completely apprehensive and envious. After all, Vaan was _hers _and _hers _alone. No fallen Princess- even ones as stunning as Ashe- would ever come between her and Vaan.

Penelo knew that Vaan indeed felt something between himself and Ashe, for his infatuation with her was obvious, even though he denied it and called her bitchy. There was some kind of commonality between them, and Penelo had no idea what it could be. After all, they seemed to be as opposite as possible, and the old saying that _opposites attract_ left Penelo with a bitter taste in her mouth.

Vaan had watched Ashe flee from the cockpit with a worried look on his face, and while Penelo looked bubbly and happy on the outside, she seethed inside. _Why doesn't Vaan look at me the way he looks at her, _she wondered. _Why can't he see me like he sees her?_

Penelo loved Vaan more than anything else in the world, and she hated him for not realizing her feelings.

"Vaan, can I talk to you for a minute?" She asked him, folding her hands neatly on her lap. "It's important."

A confused look swept over his delicate features and he nodded. "Sure."

Ignoring the suspicious look from Balthier, Penelo rose from her seat and headed into the hallway just outside the cockpit. Her best friend followed her, the confusion lingering on his face. He placed his hands on the back of his head, leaning his weight onto one foot.

"What's up?"

"The whole thing with Captain Azelas made me do some thinking," Penelo explained, clasping her hands tightly before her. "The Princess seemed like she really trusted him, and he completely betrayed her."

"Yeah, so?" He was clueless, like he always was. Penelo had always found his naiveness to be adorable. She enjoyed taking care of Vaan; it made her feel important and needed.

"You'd... you'd never break my trust like that, would you?" She glanced up at him, her pale blue eyes filled with worry. It was a general concern she had: the idea that Vaan didn't care for her the way she cared for him frightened her deeply. Should he leave her, she didn't know what she would do.

His arms dropped down to his sides and his face filled with gloom. He took a small step towards his younger friend, and despite the space between them he reached his arms out for her. "You really think I could hurt you like that?"

"No, I... I don't know," she shook her head, suddenly feeling foolish for making him believe she didn't trust him. "I just see all this horrible stuff happening to other people. I figure that if it could happen to a Princess than it could certainly happen to me."

"Penelo, I--"

"You're all I have, Vaan," she told him, stepping forward and entering his embrace. He placed his hands gently on the middle of her back, and she buried her tired face deeply into his chest. She could feel his heart beating steadily inside of him, and the feeling brought her a wave of comfort. "Without you, I'm all alone. _Please_, take care of me."

"Take care of you?" There was amusement in his voice. "I guess our roles have reversed, huh?"

She moved her head up out of his chest and smiled broadly at him. She was already feeling better, though she still felt foolish in her concern. "Not quite. I'll always be your caregiver, whether you like it or not."

His eyes were gentle as they looked down at her, and as he went to respond, the cockpit door opened and out stepped the towering Viera. Penelo slowly and reluctantly pulled herself out of Vaan's embrace.

"We arrive in Rabanastre shortly," Fran explained, eyeing them both. "It is better you retake your seats now."

"I'll go get Ashe and Basch," Vaan quipped, his face livening up. He turned and dashed off for the roof. Penelo watched him go, a little disappointed in his eagerness to fetch the Princess. Still, she put a look of pleasure on her face and turned to enter the cockpit. Fran, however, was inquisitive, and noted Penelo's inner turmoil.

"Do not worry," she told Penelo in her unique, singsong voice. "He cares for you deeply."

Penelo didn't know what to say to _that_. She watched as Fran smirked at her, then followed her back into the cockpit.


	7. The Compensation

**Author's Note**: Where did Vaan and Penelo live? I know they lived together, but where? I'm assuming Lowtown for this stories purpose.

This chapter deals with BalthierxAshe. Also implied VaanxPenelo, as well as the platonic relationship between Ashe + Penelo.

* * *

**( M A S Q U E R A D E )**

**Chapter Seven: **_The Compensation_

* * *

_Rabanastre's Lowtown_

_The Day after The 8th Fleet is Destroyed_

_Five Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

The group of unlikely companions had decided to lay low in Rabanastre. Thankfully for them, the youngest of the group shared a small, three-roomed home in Lowtown. The house had been owned by Penelo's rather large family, but they had all passed away during the war, leaving the house to the sole survivor of the family. Yet the two bedroom, one living room 'house', as Penelo described it, was not exactly a house. The walls were made of clay and wood and had holes to the outside where anyone could look inside. However, privacy to the poor living in Lowtown was a luxury none of them could afford, and Penelo and Vaan seemed relatively proud of their home. One of the biggest apartments in all of Lowtown, they had said. And the party could stay as long as needed. 

The conditions were less than favorable for a Princess, but Ashe was now used to such rugged accommodations. However, even when she was facing the worst and living in the sewers, she still was able to have her own room. The problem facing her once she stepped inside Vaan and Penelo's home was this: they could easily fit two to a room, but she would obviously be denied a room to herself. As the rest of the party was presented a tour by the excited Penelo, Ashe hung hesitantly in the doorway. Of course, she didn't wait long; the home was so small that the six of them could barely fit into the living room.

Penelo immediately saw Ashe's discomfort and, to the Princess' surprise, approached her. The girl's smile was timid yet bright, and she folded her hands in front of her as she stepped before Ashe.

"I know this isn't exactly what you're used to," Penelo explained, her tone apologetic yet soothing. "But I promise that if you give it a chance, you'll find that it really is quite charming. I'll take good care of you."

_She enjoys playing hostess. _To this, Ashe allowed a tiny smile to creep across her lips, but she wasn't sure Penelo detected it. The gesture was Ashe's way of acknowledging Penelo's kindness, but the hard years had wiped away Ashe's ability to smile.

_Funny_, Ashe thought, suddenly reminded of Vossler. _These difficult times have destroyed my ability to smile and cry._

To the Princess' shock, Penelo suddenly reached out and seized Ashe's lifeless hands. Before she could react, she found herself being pulled further into the tiny house, stumbling from surprise and lack of proper footing. Penelo yanked her towards the bedroom to the left, forcefully pushing past a bewildered Vaan as she did so. Once Ashe had managed to regain her composure, Penelo released her hands. She motioned to the dimly lit room, which contained two unattractive beds and a single dresser.

"This can be _your _room," Penelo chirped, stepping back out into the living room. Ashe took a quick peek into the room and then turned her gaze back to Penelo. "And- because you are not exactly accustomed to this kind of living- you can pick whoever you want to bunk up with you."

All eyes turned expectantly towards Ashe, who drew in a sharp breath and contemplated her decision. Penelo moved to Vaan's side and took the crook of his arm, signifying that she preferred to room with Vaan. Ashe moved her eyes to the three remaining candidates: an extrovert and rather selfish male, a quiet and seemingly cold Vieran female, and an older man whom she didn't fully trust. Ashe's options felt her with a disappointed taste in her mouth, and she didn't bother concealing the frown that crossed over her features.

Penelo's happy-go-lucky attitude faltered, but she quickly pushed up the personality again. Outwardly desperate to keep her Princess happy, Penelo turned and randomly pointed in the direction of the three candidates. They all looked to see who Penelo pointed at:

Her finger pointed closest to Balthier.

To this decision, Balthier smirked and cocked his head to the side. His gaze traveled from Penelo's outstretched hand to Ashe's stunned face. He folded his arms across his chest and his devilish grin widened.

"Princess, please," he scolded with a cluck of his tongue. "Try not to look _too _disappointed; I fear you may just hurt my feelings."

Quickly shaking the dispirited look from her face, Ashe nodded in the general direction of her new comrades. "It matters not. If you will excuse me, the hour grows late and I find myself weary. I will retire for the evening... Goodnight."

She turned hastily on her heels and entered the crawlspace-of-a-room, closing the wooden door as quickly as she could and leaving herself surrounded by darkness. Blindly, she shuffled forward until she came across the first bed. She sat down upon the wiry mattress and promptly removed her red and gold boots as well as her golden leg armor. The coolness of the air felt good on her damp legs, and she quickly wiped away the perspiration that had formed on her skin. She removed her white topcoat as well as her arm bands, tossing them carelessly across the darkened room. Lastly, she removed the black garment that wrapped around her midsection. She now felt chilled and clad in her pink skirt and thick white bra-like top, but there was no way she would be able to sleep in all her armor and clothing.

Hurriedly, she slid beneath the sheets on the bed. She sighed deeply, wondering how it was possible that laying down could feel so _good_. Letting her tired eyes flutter closed, she found that Vossler's cold face filled her mind. Ashe rubbed angrily at her eyes, willing Vossler from her memory. She vowed to never think about him again, for her blood burned violently inside her whenever she did think of him. Instead, she focused on the smiling, innocent face of Penelo. It was strange, but Ashe suddenly found herself jealous of the younger female, and wished she could be as happy and easygoing as her. With another sigh, she rolled over onto her stomach, letting herself drift off into much needed sleep.

* * *

Someone laid down on her bed with her, and Ashe was stirred awake by the feeling of the close presence of another. When her groggy mind allowed her to realize that her personal space had been invaded, her eyes shot open and her body jerked away. When she moved and gasped loudly, the intruder sat up quickly. 

"Oh, sorry," came Balthier's hushed and genuinely embarrassed voice from beside her. "I did not realize you were in _this _bed."

Flushed, Ashe tensed her body up.

"If you'll excuse me," Balthier muttered, fumbling beneath the sheets in the dark. He slid across the tiny bed, desiring to move over Ashe and make his way to his own. Ashe clutched her arms protectively over her chest, and she allowed Balthier to make the awkward move over her still body. She held her breath, feeling almost annoyed by the situation. After all, all she wanted was to sleep. Her annoyance changed to surprise, however, when she felt one of Balthier's hands graze provocatively across the width of the skin on her bare stomach. She tightened her abs and shivered by the foreign contact, unsure if the touch had been accidental or not.

When he exited the bed, he moved to the corner of the room and lit a candle. Ashe immediately sat up, clutching the sheets up to her neck.

"What _are _you doing," she breathed out loud.

Balthier sat down onto the edge of his own bed and leaned forward, resting his elbows onto his knees. He watched her intensely, and Ashe felt extraordinarily vulnerable.

"It's not time for sleep just yet, Princess," the sky pirate told her, tilting his head to the side. "We must talk."

She shook her head in response, trying to remove all grogginess from her mind and body. "Talk? I think not. I was already sleeping, you see, so I am going back to sleep."

With that she laid back down onto her side, keeping her back to him and drawing the covers up almost completely over her head. She forced her eyes closed, planning to ignore anything he might choose to say. She could not, however, ignore his next comment:

"I _do _expect payment for being your chauffeur thus far, Princess."

Wincing, Ashe rolled over to face him. "Was the dynast-king's treasure not enough to satisfy your thirst?"

He scoffed at her, running a slender hand through his cropped blonde hair. "As I said before: I prefer treasure with wealth you _can _measure."

To this comment she sat up, keeping the sheets up across her chest, and openly expressed her concern. "I am afraid to admit that I have no wealth to speak of at the moment."

He raised a golden eyebrow and she noticed his eyes dropping from her face down to her hands. He pointed towards her. "The ring?"

_Rasler's ring? _The thought of giving up her most prized possession frightened her, and she released the sheets in order to hold her hands up and examine the ring.

"Must you take _this_? Something else, perhaps?"

He raised a hand to his chin and pretended to think hard, all the while leaving Ashe anxious for his answer. Finally, a wide grin spread across his face and he snapped his fingers. "I know! A little _taste _of royalty."

"_Excuse _me?"

"I'm not asking for much," he informed her, his grin still wide. "A small, simple kiss. Is that so much to ask?"

She paused, his request of payment had completely thrown her off. She didn't know what to think or say. _A kiss, how absurd! _"I..."

"You could always give me the ring instead," came his coy reply.

Again she played with the ring on her finger. The idea of giving it to a pirate scared her more than she knew possible, and she sucked in a sharp breath and gave him a timid nod. "Alright; One kiss."

Once she had given him verbal consent, Balthier's grin faded into a pleasant expression. He moved from his bed to hers, choosing to sit to her left. She folded her arms defensively over her chest and obediently leaned towards him, keeping her head tilted slightly to the side. He leaned in as well and brushed his lips against hers, and she let herself kiss back.

His lips were considerably warmer and softer than Vossler's had ever been.

The kiss was tender; something she had not expected. She had almost thought that he would have tried to take advantage of her right then and there, but she had been wrong. He was a gentleman and true to his word: A small, simple kiss was all that he wanted. When he pulled his face away from hers, she could still feel the presence of his mouth on hers. Suddenly, she felt an urgent desire to kiss him again. Not understanding her impulsive feelings, she turned her head down and away from him, letting her soft hair fall into her face.

She recalled the first time she allowed Vossler to kiss her, and how she ended up sleeping with him in order to drown away her pain. Ashe wanted to reach for Balthier and drown her pain away in the same way she had with Vossler.

_You do not need him, _she tried to convince herself. _You are strong enough to be on your own._

She lifted her head slightly to look at him and was stunned to see an affectionate expression on his handsome face. The look was something she had never seen on him before, and all at once her heart ached for him even more.

Not caring if she was once again swept down into the depths of self-pity, Ashe found herself closing her eyes and leaning in for another kiss.

Yet Balthier stopped her advances by putting his hands onto her shoulders and gently pushing away. Bewildered, Ashe opened her eyes and met his gaze.

"Goodnight, Princess," he told her with another soft smile. With that, he moved from her side and over to his bed.

Feeling humiliated and rejected, Ashe laid back down onto her side and shut her eyes tightly. _At least I was able to keep my ring_, she thought sadly. At least I will always have that.

* * *

_**Three Days Pass**_

"Compensation- is that what you want?"

"Straight to the point, aren't we? I like that," Balthier's voice held a sexual undertone, and Ashe briefly wondered if he would request another kiss- right there in front of everyone. She eyed him sharply, mentally daring him to be so bold as to request another 'taste of royalty'. Her surprise was great when he made his request:

"Compensation? How about the ring?"

He instantly held his hand out, keeping his eyes locked onto hers. Ashe inhaled sharply, her shock so great that she nearly felt dizzy. She knew that everyone was watching her and waiting for her decision. _I must have heard him wrong, _she thought in horror. _He would not have requested the ring after the kiss I gave him instead!_

"This? Isn't there something else," she implored, referring to the kiss they had shared. She waited, trying to stare him down with the anger that resided in her eyes.

"No one's forcing you," came his nearly cold reply.

_And I have no choice; if I wish to continue my journey I must compensate him with what he asks for._

With a grunt, Ashe removed the ring from her finger and dropped it into Balthier's expectant hand. Her face red with rage, she turned away from him, ignoring whatever words came from his mouth. Her disgust of the situation was obvious to all, yet nobody other than the pirate and the Princess knew exactly _why _she was so upset.

Still, she admired his wittiness and cleverness. He had stolen a kiss from the Princess as well as her ring; it was something nobody had done before. That deserved a small smile, which she secretly gave him.

* * *

**Author's Note**: On the next episode of **Masquerade**: Vaan receives an unexpected gift and Larsa makes a daring promise to his new lady friend. VaanxAshe and LarsaxPenelo.

* * *


	8. The Hope

**Author's Note**: If you haven't already done so- and if you're interested- I have another fiction out called "_**Calamity of the Serene**_". Its a dark action/adventure story featuring BaschxAshe as well as a love triangle between Vaan, Penelo, and Larsa. (Other pairings, too, but things will be spoiled if I tell you).

Thanks to everyone for their loyalty to my fic's and the wonderful reviews. Really, I really appreciate them and take them all to heart. :)

The beginning of this chapter takes place at the end of Ashe and Vaan's conversation on the bridge in the Jahara. Remember? It's night out and they look at the stars.

This chapter is VaanxAshe, implied RaslerxAshe, LarsaxPenelo, and implied VaanxPenelo. And is sappy as all hell.

* * *

**( M A S Q U E R A D E )**

**Chapter Eight: **_The Hope_

* * *

_The Jahara_

_The Night After Ashelia Sought the Garif's Help_

_Four Months Before Vayne's Defeat _

* * *

"Know what? I'm through with it. I'm through running."

Ashe turned her head towards Vaan, amazed he had spoken this much thus far. Usually, words that tumbled from his mouth were obtuse and unperceptive. Yet that evening as they stood on one of the many Jaharan bridges beneath the sea of stars, Vaan had shared some of his deepest emotions, and Ashe was left feeling astonished. Vaan, she discovered, was more than the naive child that she had thought he was. He in reality was more than base revenge- he was a representative of the people of Dalmasca, and he gave Ashe a genuine feeling of hope.

His words made Ashe want to defend her country all the more- if not for herself, than for him.

"I'm ready to find my purpose," he continued, raw emotion rich in his voice. "To find some real answers; some reasons. If I stick with you, I think I will."

She wished she could promise him he'd discover the answer's he needed, but she wasn't sure if she would find the solutions to her own problems. She bowed her head slightly before him, signifying her regret. "I wish I knew."

"I'll find them."

Ashe turned away, choosing instead to watch the reflection in the pool of water before her. She could count thousands of stars that were reflected, each burning and pulsing brightly. She looked further down into the reflection and could clearly see her and Vaan standing on the bridge. Not only that, but Vaan was looking into the water as well, and their reflections locked eyes. Ashe quickly glanced away, suddenly feeling out of place beside a Dalmascan commoner in the middle of the desert. With a low sigh she turned to face him again.

"You have... changed," she stated, a slight frown forming across her lips.

He glanced towards her as well. A smile danced across his lips when he heard her words, and he almost appeared to be proud of the accomplishment. Shrugging, he said, "You've changed too, you know."

She was curious. "Oh? How so?"

He hesitated, and she noticed how frightened he was to answer her question. _He thinks I will reprimand him for his words, _she thought in silent horror. To calm his nerves, she took a step closer to him and placed her left hand tenderly on the crook of his arm. He glanced down at her touch and then back to her kind face.

"...You seem nicer," he stated, uneasiness present in his voice. "You kinda acted more bossy before, like you were better than us."

She was taken back by his comment, and allowed her hand to slip from his arm and down to her side. Her mouth parted with shock, and she blinded hard. Her voice came out filled with hurt. "Better than you?"

"I don't know," Vaan fumbled over his words, an intense blush slowly creeping over his cheekbones. "You ignored all our opinions, I guess. You seem like... you respect us now."

_Am I really that bossy? Do I really seem like I feel I am above them?_

"So I see," she muttered, lowering her gaze to the wooden bridge beneath them and turning her body away from his.

She could feel his gaze hot in her back, but she forced herself to ignore him. What did he know, after all? He didn't know her; he didn't know anything about who she was. His comment meant nothing.

Then why was it bothering her so much?

"Do you see the Prince in me?"

His words startled her. She spun on her heels, her mouth falling open as she peered at him with genuine interest. "Rasler?"

He nodded, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. "Yeah. Maybe that's why you think you see him and then see me. Maybe I... remind you of him."

"That is an absurd notion," she snapped, almost angry.

His face drew back, and he was obviously hurt by her quick retort. Instantly, she felt bad. She hadn't meant to snap at him. His words had just surprised her, that was all. Besides, it was an absurd notion; her Rasler was _nothing _like the boy thief. Rasler had been noble and sweet and genuine. Vaan was-

_-Well, I suppose he is all of these traits, as well. Just in a different form than that of Rasler. A more innocent form. He is really good-natured, Vaan is, but..._

She sighed, and stretched her arms out horizontally from her sides. He flinched at first, almost as if he was afraid that she would smack him. But there was no anger in her gesture. Instead, she was trying to signify her willingness to be open and friendly to him.

"Do not misunderstand," she explained, her voice emerging from her throat in a soft, compassionate tone. "In you I do not see Lord Rasler. Instead, I see something much greater."

He peered at her curiously. "Greater?"

She nodded, drawing her arms in and hugging them against her chest. "In you I see what I have been fighting for- what I must restore Dalmasca for. You see, Vaan, _you are _my hope. How shall I ever succeed in my goal without having my hope by my side?"

Her words seemed to effect him deeply. He visibly stiffened, biting down on the corners of his mouth as if he wished to prevent himself from crying. He took a step towards her, and she didn't back away. Instead, she welcomed the closeness of his body. He was within two feet of her, holding her eyes with his own, and Ashe was suddenly aware of the intense blue of his wide eyes. She could hear the gentle sounds of the water beneath them, and the crickets playing their gentle melodies. She could feel the stars shimmering down onto them. _This is far more romantic than I ever thought it could be._

As she stared back into his eyes and felt the warmth radiating from his very soul, she suddenly missed Rasler dearly. But somehow, she knew that he was right there, right before her- staring into her eyes.

Perhaps Vaan was very much like her lost Prince, after all.

Without warning or reason, Ashe snapped her head forward and planted a quick kiss onto Vaan's right cheek. She pulled back as quickly as she had gone forward, latching her hands over her mouth as she felt an unpleasant warmth spread across her own cheeks. _Oh, Gods, what am I thinking?_

Vaan's cheeks burned as brightly as hers, and her impulsive move caused him to retreat a step or two away from her. Completely humiliated by what she had just done, Ashe quickly turned away from the boy once again and mumbled something that resembled an apology. Before giving him the chance to respond or fully react, she dashed away from him, off the bridge, and back towards their camp.

* * *

As Penelo watched from the campfire as Ashe raced blindly away from Vaan, she could feel her own flesh burn; not with humiliation as Ashe and Vaan's had, but with anger.

_Who does she think she is, _Penelo wondered with passion. _How dare she kiss Vaan! Doesn't she know that he's mine?_

"I daresay," came a young voice from behind her. She spun quickly, alarmed by the intruder, only to discover that the voice was from that of Larsa. She instantly relaxed. "You do look ready to pounce and kill."

She blushed furiously from his comment, as she had been completely unaware that someone had been watching her reaction. She hadn't even realized she had made any reaction at all. She gestured back towards Vaan, who was now slowly trudging off the bridge with a happy smile on his handsome face. "I just don't want to see him get hurt."

Larsa appeared amused as he approached her. He knew that she was lying through her teeth, despite the rather impressive act she put on. _Damn him, _Penelo swore mentally_. Even for a twelve-year-old boy, he is incredibly smart and cunning. Nothing escapes him_.

With that thought in mind, Penelo suddenly imagined Larsa grown and as ruler of Archadia. With such traits, she knew he would make a grand Emperor.

"Alright," she finally admitted, shutting her eyes and clenching them tightly together. With a sigh, she added, "I just wish I had the confidence that the Princess has. I wish I could just kiss Vaan and think nothing of it."

There was the sound of rustling before her. Opening her eyes and glancing down, she was startled to see Larsa kneeling directly before her. Bewildered, Penelo went to take a quick step backwards, but Larsa had snatched her hands into his and was now holding them tightly between his gloved palms. He stared at her smooth, delicate hands for a moment before giving them a gentle squeeze. He glanced up towards her with the same genuine look on his face that he always seemed to have.

His words were filled with determination: "Penelo. One day, long from now, when I am older, I will give you the opportunity to demonstrate the courage in which you desire to have. But I pray that you would use this opportunity on my cheek, and not on his."

Well, she wasn't sure what to make of _that_. She could feel her eyes widen from surprise, and she swallowed hard. "But, um, Lord Larsa? You're--" _just a kid._

He knew what she was thinking- _cunning bastard_- and smirked at the expression on her face. "I will not be a boy forever, you understand."

"But, I--" She was at a loss for words. Here was one of the most brilliant people she had ever met, brother to her great enemy, and he was nearly admitting that he had a small crush on her. Vaan was suddenly far from her mind.

He chuckled so softly that she could barely hear him, and gave her hands one last squeeze before releasing them and standing. Tilting his head sideways, he flashed her a grin full of white teeth. "Have hope, Penelo."

And, as Ashe had just done to Vaan, Larsa turned on his heels and moved away from the awestruck girl, leaving Penelo to her own surprise and great confusion.

* * *

**Author's Note**:

_On the next episode of _**Masquerade**: Basch must learn to trust the sky pirates, and Fran helps Ashe control her lust for power. Fran x Ashe, as well as platonic Balthier + Basch.

* * *


End file.
